Normal is an Acronym, it stands for
by Durachin
Summary: Not. Our. Really. Magnificent. Awesome. Liar. Justine is your average, cynical teen. She just has a tendency to end up in the wrong place. At the wrong time... Karma seriously wants to crap us all over, doesn't it? Eventual RandyOC
1. Chapter 1

Trying the OC aspect out. Real development, character portraying, and snarky personality portrayal. Warning, crude humor, cursing, and hints of crankiness from OC. Review if you'd like.

* * *

Let me introduce myself.

I am Justine. It plays along the definition of 'just' and 'true'. All levels of sincerity would not compromise on how I was a freaking _liar_. It all started with that silly line relaying on 'who stole the freaking cookies' to 'who the hell stole 20 dollars from my pocket'. I was a liar as you would label and _proud._

Ha.

I am completely normal in most senses, besides my healthy ambition towards _Naruto. Le_ts just say the fandom and I am best buddies.

Today I am moving.

Fuuuuuu- all kinds of duck. Lets start with the normal process. Express tearful goodbyes to crowd of friends...um-NO. My friends are douches. I said I was moving... their reaction? ._. Kay...bye.

PURE DOUCHES.

No I don't do drugs or get high off prescription medicines. Thats fucking dumb. The strongest thing I've smelled is white-out and that is weak as a twig.

I'm a boring person. The most exciting that's ever happened to me was when I got a godforsaken bright red scarf for my birthday- and that was a year ago. Now pause and laugh at my pathetic self. Ha. ROFL.

I have horrible hair. It's short and sticks everywhere, including my neck. That is why it is dyed a horrendous pink (SHIVER) and has terrible old brown streaks from my normal hair.

Lets just say a permanent dare gone wrong. I can never die my hair again from that experience.

I straighten it everyday and try to hide the brown streaks under clumps of bright pink. My eyes are brown-poop brown so don't make me say 'OMGS it's chocolate, rich and mofo sexy' because it's not. I'm not white-strawberry-rainbow color haired. That's horrifying. No genetic logic whatsoever. And looks like unicorn shit.

I dont have boobs. IM FLAT AS A BOARD. Ironing board. Whatever.

I hate people in general. There so ANNOYING. Pfft? Friends? I got a fanclub, bitch please.

I _do _like drawing, a Japanese heaven snacky dubbed Pocky, and ninjas. No not the typical ninja uniform with clothing designed to make you look like a burglar, but the bright orange jumpsuit kind with cheeky blue eyes and sun kissed skin. Naruto ninjas.

As I was saying before rant and rant, I am _moving._

_No. _

I don't want typical love school, highschool drama. I want to curl up in my freaking pajamas and sleep for three hours straight at home. _Alone. Squidward style._

Great.

Currently, my body was lazily curled up on the couch eating some good mofo chips. Barbeque, if you'd like to know.I was currently contemplating my situation, staring at my bid luggage. It was UGLY.

Then, hell.

"Oh my dear sister... time too go~" my sister. Iris. A freaking eye part. bane of my existence.

After that brief, little tidbit of information- _Crash!_

I forget.

My sister is the clumsiest, stupidest person I have ever known in my entire life. She compensates for that by having red hair and mofo clear, sky blue eyes. She is pretty. Why? Blame genetics. And my stellar model parents.

How come I didn't get their looks? Freaking stupid genetics.

I jumped off the couch, sighing.

Good lot of help that'll do. I shoved the luggage under my arm, quietly treading down the stairs.

* * *

I whistled in the car as we rolled up to the driveway to the new quaint little house we owned.

Pulling up my luggage, I slid out of my seat opening the smelled better at least. And yes. I'm so ninja that I can smell the FUCKING air.

Sweet holy grail. Momma smiled at me, million dollar like while Iris was rubbing the cuts on her thigh from tripping on a pebble. Dad was on his phone, unraveling his keys from the christening load of metal in his never ending pocket.

"Now, Justine. Do you want to take out the garbage today, or greet the new neighbors?"I opened my mouth immediately.

"Garbage."

No way in h-e- double hockey stick am I meeting NEW people. (Shiver)

Momma frowned, sighing. She brushed her strawberry blonde (GENETICS I TELL YOU) hair through her fingers, slipping into a faux smile.

"Mom, can I go?" Iris smiled sweetly, pressing her fingers to her dimples. Momma grinned, nodding. "Sure sweetie." Iris scuffled off to the house next door, and I watched her knock swiftly on the white door.

I hauled car garbage from the seats, pausing as I saw a hint of a person _crawl up a two story house _to the perch of a window with a black and red book.

I'm going to count that as a hallucination. I ain't getting paid enough for this. Allowances can only do so much.

I threw the trash bag over my shoulder, but before I swear I saw _purple _hair.

Another hallucination. Level up.

* * *

END

* * *

Note: i seriously don't know anymore. I wanted to break from the norm and have NORMAL person go to Norris. No kunochi shiz or next ninja. Just a sarcastic, cranky girl with bad hair dye. And a cynical pesonality.

Note: no romance till a long time. If you want some be patient. If you can't wait, GTFO.

Note: pocky is a Japanese snack, coming in as a pouch in a cardboard box with cutesy pink designs on. It has cream on one side of the stick(cracker snax) and is often used in pocky kiss gag where a boyandgirl or boyboy try to to get the longer end of the stick while inadvertedly kissing. Naruto is a popular anime/manga based on traditional Japanese ninja probably set up during the Japanese feudal era. The main protanagist is a young boy name Naruto Uzumaki who has a monster sealed up in his stomach. His dream is to become Hokage, a leader of Konohagakure, village hidden in the leaves.

Note: If you are unfamiliar with any term in the story, as Luka Megurine insists, go google it!


	2. Chapter 2

I squealed so hard when I saw I had a review. Thank you (arigato?) Dork Asian. I'm so pathetic... oh well. Please review? Follow? Tell me what you think! Im ALSO thinking about having a male Nomicon pair with Iris or something... yay

* * *

"Wake up. Eggs and bakey. All that jazz..." I drawled, pulling my sisters sheets from the bed. Iris' red hair had been sprawled over the sheet so I had to drag her from the bed... with spaghetti noodle arms. Damn. Now my arms hurt. Muscle needs developments.

Thank gods there's no specific uniform. I wore some clothes ( normal, cheap tee and some weird shoes called McKicks?) And headed to squander the breakfast food. Even though momma knows how to cook, dad takes up all the womanly activities...what?

Iris stood near the table, nursing a purplish bruise from tripping(again,) while I tried mussing my hair to tuck under my shirt.

I flipped out a book dubbed Death Note (my love). A enthralling book filled with genius twists and intelligent reactions and complex imagery and characters.

And a really, really hot guy named L.

Okay. COUGH.

"Hey, hey, hey sis! I'm going to eight grade, and you're going to ninth, isn't that COOL, HUH? Hey, hey did you hear about how their's a NINJA! Norrisville high is famous for a NINJA! Blahblahblah!" I tuned out from all the crap she was rambling, digging into my bacon.

Yum. Nothing beats greasy bacon. Screw diets, I burn off calories with my BRAIN.

After I had eaten all the bacon, I turned to my sister. "Let's go." i prompted, satisfied with my breakfast.

She nodded, while we grabbed our backpacks. I contemplated using my skateboard... yes. I held it tight under my arm, flattening my skirt. Iris had her bike, so we headed off.

* * *

"See ya sissy!" She called, wiping her leg from falling off her bike. I rolled my eyes, waving my hand as she entered the doors of the middle school. Okay...

I wiped sweat from my brow and rolled my board five blocks away. Norrisville Highschool.

It was a decent sized, nothing much. It looked like a normal highschool. I frowned significantly as I stuffed my skateboard into my backpack and adjusted my socks.

The bell hadn't rang just yet and teenagers littered the halls speaking to each other in their little cliques. I felt... out of place. I had just been pushed out of summer to a new school and it was freaking weird. I sighed again, reminiscing homework and such. That was going to SUCK so bad.

I walked forward to open the doors when I ran smack into someone.

A girl someone.

She had short purplish (dyed?) Hair and held a baton in her hand. A small ponytail framed on the crown of her head. She held a watery glance.

"You...okay?" i asked awkwardly as she sighed. She broke into a heartbroken sob, hiccuping between words.

"They... t-they canceled the b-baton club!" Her lip quivered. She spoke as if it was the end of the world.

Poor thing. Baton club was probably really important to her.

"Oh...why?" I asked, patting her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.

"Well..." she trailed off. "They cancelled it because they thought the basketball club was probably more important! But it's only the first day of school! They never even got to witness my skill for baton twirling." I frowned. How could a SPORT be more important then creative arts? Sports are way more taxing. Just think of all that sweat and humidity!

I folded my arms together, shaking my head.

"Well, I for one think your mad skills are better used elsewhere! Where someone'll appreciate you. I guess we could form a little club of our owns!" i swear her eyes sparkled.

"Really?" She tried to confirm, hopefully.

"Really."I stated.

"What's your name?" She asked chirpily, her expression suddenly giddy. "Justine," I replied.

"Mine's Theresa!" She added.

"Good. Hope your in my class!" She called walking away. I sighed in relief.

One good thing a day keeps karma away.

How _wrong_ that was.

* * *

It all started when the red head and purple head troll appeared in wonderland.

Kidding.

Turns out Theresa wasn't in my class. In place of them were an obnoxious chubby red head and a cocky little purple head. I'm serious. The hair is what bugged me the most. It was ALL purple and stuck up like Norman in ParaNorman. Gravity defying.

Oh well. Six impossible things before breakfast if I have enough time to wash it down with orange juice.

So this big, burly man... Strauss... strong? I don't recall his name so he's for now. I'm too... i don't know... LAZY.

Mr. Teacher spoke... more like yelled... to us to write a paragraph on what we did during our summer. I got out a pencil and began to rythymically write. Problem is said purple head TROLL began whispering, breaking my perfect creative flow. I was fuming to the brim.

But... I DO have blackmail now.

He wrote something about being a ninja(weirdo, whatever ninja meant) and then proceeded to rip perfectly good paper in his hands...

I wonder if it was a secret occupation.

Oh well, I got DIRT now on that TROLL for RUINING my beautiful paragraph.

Yay.

_that was the start when karma began to work_

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END

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What do you think? Tell me!

Note:takes place in first episode, last chapter as well.


	3. Chapter 3

Note: I love your feedback, continue doing so! Tell me what you like about the chapter, or what you want me to do. Maybe I might even have a little guest OC courtesy of you!

* * *

Today, free period in school I searched up Theresa and hit the school library to some minor library funtime.

Such as hiding at the back of the library with a large bag of barbeque chips. They were the shiz.

Then lunch. Oh yes, I feel like a fatty.

The food was decent and they served fries. FRIES! My old school was way too healthy for the norm so they served veggie burgers (shiver)

Then some burgular, smoke bombed fart.

Burgular.

Seriously. The person wore all black with only a hint of red and it was an obnoxious blaring red. No. That does not work. Go home fashion, you're drunk.

I glanced over at Theresa whose eyes sparkled in a dreamy state. Oh. Girl had a crush.

I continued to eat my fries.

"Yes, yes I am THE ninja!" The voice cockily stated. Oh shit. I knew that voice. The TROLL!

wtf. Somebody tell me why the fuck the troll is the damn ninja? I wanna be a ninja! Where can I sign up!?

"Smoke bomb!" I coughed and wheezed. Nasty. It smells like freaking fart!

"Who the heck was that?" I asked quickly, the bell about to ring.

"The Norrisville Ninja, the protector of Norrisville." She sighed dreamily.

Oh.

I thought he was the tacky burgular of Norrisville. My view is biased.

* * *

It was during fifth period. In the parking lot the ninja was fighting a grotesque robot thing with extra arms.

More 'hands on' experience, eh?

I know. I suck.

I've always been terrible at puns. It runs in the family, I swear. Dad and his checkbook references and Mom and her little fashion tidbits... why~!

My hair stuck on my sweaty neck and I pushed the sticky bits off.

Theresa glanced at me (she was in my fifth period) with a gleeful look on her face, anticipating the ninja.

The students and the teacher hurried to scene surprised to see the ninja go 'SMOKE BOMB!' And appear out of thin air.

He wielded this sword, and began hacking the robot to pieces.

Theresa keeled over in disgust while I wondered how sharp the sword was. It was pretty badass.

He was also in a mantra of 'within the suit' and I snorted. (Weirdo)

The excitement faded when he downed the robot and yelled 'smoke bomb' for another time.

I walked away with Theresa, sighing.

That was way too exciting for lazy ol' me.

* * *

Theresa and I went to her house after school to see her baton twirling act.

I can say Theresa rocked the baton.

She had a cute little house. Her room consisted of a majority of purple and was spread out with famous baton twirler posters and broadway idols.

"Soo... do you have cake?" I asked as we sat at her desk.

"Um... we have red velvet."

That was set in stone. Theresa was AWESOME!

* * *

I said my good bye as I left Theresa's house with a slice of cake and a fork.

It was delicious. Fucking delicious.

I went to pick up my sister from school. She was chatting it up with her friends (somehow all asian girl geeks) and tossing her hair over her shoulder. Boys were eyeing her strangely.

Oh hell no.

I pulled her from the campus, waiting for her to pick herself up from the sidewalk, dragging her home.

"So... did you meet a boy?" She asked ditzily.

"No" I replied.

"Oh,"

"Soo... what are we gonna do when we get home?"

"Eat cake, ditz."

* * *

Note: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. And to answer something Guest, in the show it's painfully obvious that Randy is the ninja. Also, Justine is a paper freak and likes to recycle. She is also a red-velvet fanatic and has very... strange mindset.

Review!


	4. Chapter 4

Back from so long ago, where did all the time go?

Kidding, hi!

.

Justine.

I'm not know to be kind or cute or... Sweet.

"Be kind to our neighbors! We're meeting them for the first time!" Momma cheered sweetly, placing a fine hand on Iris's shoulder. Dad gave a mega watt smile, hugging his two favorite girls. They looked picture perfect.

I was awkwardly in the corner with poop eyes and a sickly skin color.

Again. Genetics.

I'd rather be chilling at Theresa's house or eating cake— something fun!

Momma disregarded my scowl of angst as I glared and glared, but of course she wasn't listening or looking.

Hmmph.

Hmmph!

"Are you okay, sis?" Iris chirped, "You look constipated. Do you need to use the bathroom?"

I glowered further, "Go back to your barbie bubble, ditz."

Momma scowled prettily at me, protesting, "Now, now! Girls, you're supposed to love each other. Sisters, remember?"

That means nothing to me.

"Fine." I groaned, Iris still smiling blissfully. We were now standing at the door of our neighbors home, all prepped up (besides me) and proper as momma rung the doorbell.

"Hey, hey. Hello!" The awkward exchange between the families was way too tenuous.

The door swung open as I was greeted by the face of..

The troll.

The motherducking troll.

I blinked once.

I blinked twice.

I turned to my mother. "Can I go home now?" Momma rolled her eyes and began to chat eagerly with the trolls mother.

How could such a pretty lady be related to a monstrosity?

Then again, look at me.

Genetics.

The pretty lady (genetics) ushered us into the quaint house, into the dining room with a pretty table and shiny cutlery. It was lined with food.

I was placed beside the troll, across from my sister who was eyeing him strangely, to my father who was glaring down the troll. Good.

The mother's were seated adjacent to each other, chatting excitedly. What do moms talk about anyway?

I poked at my broccoli.

"You're boy is quite a catch! How old is he?"

The trolls mother blinked, then reverting to her keen smile. "Randy?" That was his real name? Darn, I still wanted to call him a troll. Oh well. "He's fourteen. He goes to the highschool down the street— oh, does your daughter..." She trailed off. Momma gave a pointed look to me. "Justine." I said quietly, giving a hidden glower to my mother. The fork ran into the chicken.

My momma nodded enthusiastically, "I think Justine goes to the same school as his."

The troll— Randy— shifted awkwardly. He was eerily quiet through the dinner.

The troll's— Randy's, I mean— mother smiled again. "That's wonderful! I'm sure they'll be good friends after this." I choked audibly on my food as a pressed a hand against my chest.

The fork dropped from my hand.

"Oh dear, are you alright?"

I wheezed. "I'm fine. I just.. Ate too much." Randy's mother smiled, "Oh, okay then. I'm glad my food is good."

I gave a small smile, pushing the plate away from me.

"Is your boy good in school?" My father spoke up, his finger itching for his keys. He was sure that boy was looking at his daughter the wrong way. (-of course it wasn't me, it was Iris. He hadn't held me since I was five and to be honest, who was prettier?)

Randy's mother smiled again— geez, who can hold up such a sweet smile with such a dysfunctional family?— "Oh, yes. Randy is very smart." You could see him flinch. (-if she had seen his eight grade report card buried in the backyard) I cackled inwardly.

My father looked doubtful. My momma looked relieved, "Well, Justine is rather lacking..." I winced. "...In a lot of subjects. I would hope that your son could tutor my daughter. Since they're in the same grade and all." I whispered harshly. "What?! Mom, please,no." Randy looked horrified.

"Absolutely not." My father protested. I felt hopeful. My mother sent a sharp look at him, shutting him up. I shrunk.

"Absolutely yes." My momma finalized. Randy's mom looked pressured for a moment, before breaking into another smile. "That sounds great! Would you like to discuss more over dessert? Randy and Justine can try doing their homework." I sunk at the idea, and the no-dessert. Randy looked worse.

"What are you waiting for, go to the living room." My momma urged.

I looked awkwardly at my hands.

"I'll be watching." My father muttered gravely. Iris looked a little dazed as she loomed over cake. My heart shriveled. Red velvet cake.

Randy stood from the table, me following after.

We crashed on the couches. "You made me miss dessert/cake!" We protested at each other.

"I don't like you." I groused, folding my arms together petulantly.

"Me too!" He groaned.

"I can't be friends with you." We synchronized.

"You're a loser!" He snapped.

"You're weird." I sniffed.

Randy looked at me. "I am not weird!"

I unfolded my arms. "We'll I'm not the one playing ninja running around with fart bombs!" I snapped back.

He made to shoot back, but paused momentarily, eyes widening. "Wait, wait, wait. You know I'm the ninja?"

I frowned. "Well, I just moved here, but I'm sure you're the only idiot who runs around with a burglar suit."

Randy frowned. "Not that! How'd you find out?"

I sniffed again. "How'd I find out your weird hobby? Well, I can read upside down and you put down being a ninja on your paper before ripping it up on the first day of school. You ruined my writing vibes."

He palmed his face. "I thought I got rid of that paper before anyone was looking." He looked forlorn. Then he looked confused. "Vibes?"

I glared heatedly. "I was writing my amazing paragraph on how fake my summer was, but then you're LOUD paper ripping ruined my flow. Not to mention the teacher was being the whole time, so it was hard to concentrate!"

He scoffed. "Weird."

I scowled. "You're weird. And I don't want to do my homework with you."

He nodded, looking dejected. "What do we do? Fake success? I don't want to spend another minute with you." He spat.

"Well," I mused, looking thoughtful. "I have a plan."

He sighed in relief. "That's a start."

I began to elaborate, "I'll get a good grade and you fail a test." He nodded, but then paused.

"What?"

I rolled my eyes. "Common sense, moron. If you have bad grades then you can't tutor me anymore."

He looked skeptical. "I don't want to fail... My mom'll take my video games and throw them away."

I rolled my eyes again, and stated matter-of-fact like, "Gravepuncher, right?" He looked shocked.

"I got all of the sequels and prequels at home. You can have them if they get taken away. I don't really like them anyway."

He look mortified and shocked, (-how could someone NOT like gravepuncher?)

"So, do we have a deal." Hesitant he looked at her tiny hand. "I'm not shaking your hand." She deadpanned.

He scowled. "Me too."

.

.

.

I waved dejectedly at the house of cake, walking away with my parents and Iris. Glancing back to the window was annoying purple hair and boy mouthing, "Don't tell." He waved the burglar mask.

I shrugged as he scowled at my nonchalance.

"Did you do you're homework, Justine?" My father and momma chimed.

"Uh..."

_"Justine_!"

Iris tripped on a crack in the concrete at that moment.

.

.

.

A.N/ oh hello, I am back. I decided to carry on this story after trial and tribulation, bad grades and report cards. Sadly, I am still unintelligent. (-cheesy smile-) look forward to keener updates.


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